


Got so Much to Lose, Got so Much to Prove (God, Don't Let Me Lose My Mind).

by vigilgothic



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Badham Preschool, F/M, Harringsmith, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Hawkins High School, Hawkins Indiana, Hawkins National Laboratory, M/M, Multi, Springwood, Springwood Ohio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24615334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vigilgothic/pseuds/vigilgothic
Summary: Quentin Smith, a troubled dreamwalker, has lived in his own personal nightmare for as long as he could remember. When the nightmares get worse and nothing is getting better, his father does what he feels is best for his son. He insists that they steer away from Springwood, Ohio and move to a small town in Indiana called Hawkins. They have a Laboratory where Quentin could get treated, and they have Hawkins High School where he can finish out his schooling career. Nothing ever goes wrong in small towns like this, right?Important Notes:(This is a multi-part story before I forget to mention. If you know who Freddy Krueger is, you know that he is a child molester. There is a non-con warning just because of that backstory.)
Relationships: Nancy Holbrook/Quentin Smith, Steve Harrington/Quentin Smith
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	1. Rescue Me (From The Demons in My Mind)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first publication on here so... please excuse me and my mistakes. I usually work on Quotev (vigilgothic), but I'm gonna try this platform since that one is dead. I also use Instagram (butterscotchharrington) for hc's and oneshots, but that's no place for fanfics. Thus, here we are. As I mentioned earlier, this is my first work so don't mind me.

It was another long day, but when wasn't it? It was September 12th, which meant that fall was just around the corner. The leaves were changing colors, the air was always cold, it always smelled like cinnamon or apples everywhere, coffee shops bustled more frequently, and it was always so nice out. Well, at least it was outside in the mornings and afternoons. As it grew darker, everybody was turning in for the night. Well, almost everybody. On 6798 Elm Street, that was a different story. A boy was trying to keep himself up. He had an empty can of Monster on his bed as he wore his earbuds. Quentin paced around the room, got a shower, drank some energy drinks, had some coffee, played his music, and did everything he could in his power to stay up. As ten turned to eleven, then eleven turned to midnight, Quentin was struggling to keep e his eyes open. As his eyelids grew heavier and his body practically sank into the mattress, the insomniac was soon asleep. Not that he wanted to be, but he really needed it. Despite his empty Zoneral pill bottle and the lack of Hypnocil that were propped up on his desk just across the room.

-

1,2. Quentin was walking aimlessly towards Badham Preschool. This was the place that would forever change his life. This was where the nightmares started, and where 'the' nightmare started his rein of terror. It was the same nightmare every time, but he was always startled by it. No matter how many times it happens, he gets the same reaction driven out of him.

3, 4. The dreamwalker wiped the snow off the rotting sign before him. The snow was masking, merely sugar-coating the school entirely. Once the snow was wiped off, it grew dark. Well, it was already dark, but it felt a little more real now. The nightmare had more dimension to it in a sense. As he walked towards the door of the school, the snow crunched under his feet the whole way there. Once the door creaked up, he took a breather before stepping through. Through what could only be described as 'the Gates of Hell'.

5, 6. Quentin would look around the school, but wouldn't take the time to inspects the other rooms or the drawings that filled the hallways. He always wandered towards the basement of the schoolhouse. The glowing lights that shined like a beacon would practically be calling for him. The colors of orange and yellow would drawl him closer and closer to the steps. Despite their resemblance of fire and the heat that came from the steps, he always wandered inside.

7, 8. His heartbeat would grow faster as he felt sweat starting to sparkle across his face, especially from his forehead and under his eyes. Once he came all the way down the steps, the door would slam and lock behind him. He'd hear the lullaby and chime of singing school girls. The repetitive counting, the lulling sounds, the faint clicking of a jump rope smacking against the ground. Everything was there. Although he could never find them, he always heard them. As the song seemed to drawl closer, Quentin would fly up the steps to try and pry the door open. He'd kick, smack, tug, push, and even jiggle the handle, nothing worked.

9\. 10. As the heat grew hotter and the light grew brighter, he'd let out a small cry before it all fell silent. The lights would be dimmed, the lullaby would grow silent, and the heat would diminish. However, the door would still be locked. Once he'd hear the sound of scratching metal, he'd leave the door alone. Quentin would sprint down the corridor to find another way out. Although his heart would be racing and his hands would be shaky, he'd keep going. Just when he thinks that all hope is lost, he finds an opening. Quentin would always reach for it, but would be pulled back by some force. He'd smack against the wall and come face to face with the man behind it all. His body would smell like burning flesh, his snicker would fill the entire floor, his blades would scratch the metal beam right behind Quentin's head, and his breath would reek of smoke, as if he inhaled it all before he died. Just when this demon would raise his glove to slash, Quentin would wake up.

-

"Quentin!" he'd hear just before his eyes would open like curtains that covered the windows. He woke up panting for air as he stayed on his back, practically paralyzed by fear.

"Quentin, hey, it's okay. You're okay." the man before his said in his low, raspy voice. It was Quentin's dad, Alan. Once Quentin registered the voice, he would sigh shakily then slump back in bed.

"It was him again, wasn't it?" his dad finally asked, despite him dreading the question. His son would nod before he'd run his hands through his brunette curls then down his face.

"What time is it?" Quentin finally asked. His voice was raspy as well, but only because his throat was sore from screaming in his sleep.

"It's like three in the morning. Here, you should go back to-" his father went to finish, but the insomniac stopped him.

"No. No more sleeping. I- I'll be fine.." Quentin mumbled.

"Quen, you're clearly not fine. Far from it." his dad admitted. Quentin knew this, but he'd never admit it. As far as they were concerned, as long as his dad still had a job and Quentin was still breathing, he'd be fine. They both would be.

"You can't keep living like this. Nobody deserves to," his dad admitted as he sat down at the end of Quentin's bed. Great, now it was clear that his dad wasn't gonna leave him alone anytime soon. "Here, I'll tell you what. I'll see what we can do, okay? Just hang tight for the next few days and I'll get back to you on that," Alan said as Quentin squinted at the man before him.

"Yeah alright..." Quentin mumbled as the looked at his dad. He had no idea what his dad was talking about, but he'd go along with anything he said as long as it got his dad out of his room faster.

With a sigh in defeat, Alan left his son to ponder his thoughts and possibly go back to sleep. However, once he was gone, Quentin sat up a bit more to keep himself awake. He grabbed another can of Monster from his nightstand then he cracked it open. The metal lip hissed before it crackled. With no hesitation, Quentin took a swig of the beverage then looked over at the empty pill bottles. Besides them was a drawing. It was one of his friends'. Well, he hoped to be more than just friends, but it didn't exactly work out that way. Quentin had one of Nancy Holbrook's paintings. He always kept it on his desk and refused to let anything happen to it. Alan never thought anything of it, which was probably for the best. The painting itself wasn't important, but that was the last thing he had that reminded him of Nancy. Even when they thought that they defeated Freddy, he went and took Nancy right out from under Quentin. He looked at the artwork then raised his can before he took a drink, almost as a cheers to his former friend. 

It wasn't always like this. When this all started to unravel, he relied on Zoneral to keep him up and Hypnocil to prevent him from dreaming. Once Quentin's doctor resigned and he couldn't get his meds anymore, everything started to crumble again. He couldn't tell what was real or not anymore. Hell, he didn't even know if Freddy was really after him, or if he was just having a repetitive flashback. At this point, it didn't matter. Whether Freddy was there or not, he was still gonna terrorize Quentin one way or another. 

He was the sole survivor. It didn't matter if he wanted this or not. Either way, Quentin had to keep it that way, and his dad was seek to it.


	2. To Fade Away (And Leave a Ray of Sun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the comfort of Springwood (or really, the comfort that lingered), things had to change. Maybe the scenery. After a job offer from a school in Indiana, Alan brings the idea of moving to Quentin. When it comes down to it, they have a choice to stay in the familiarity of Springwood, Ohio or start over in Hawkins, Indiana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also a cut-and-dry piece. I'm trying to make each chapter spicy, but damn. That's easier said than done. Not to mention that it is currently 3:30 am and I just finished the second chapter. Anyway, here's what I got. I didn't expect any real attention or feedback on here, but y'all have already thrown me for a loop and proven me wrong on that! Thanks to those who have (or will) do that on my piece(s).

After a few weeks of sleepless nights, Alan Smith finally had their salvation. Well, Quentin's anyway. After another long day of working at Springwood High School, his dad came inside. Quentin was sitting at the dining room table with his book in his hand as his eyes skimmed the words that filled the numerous pages. The book he had was so old that it had yellow pages, and it was used by so many others that it was ripped and stained with water damage, coffee spills, wrinkled pages, and even torn corners. Hell, it even smelled like an old book. Since the library rarely got any new stories, Quentin was rereading one of his favorites: The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton. He held his paperback while his coffee cup stood just inches away from his hand. The mug was still steaming and scolding so he left it alone, but he was going to need a sip or two to stay awake. There was a pile of Oreos beside the mug as well. It was in a porcelain bowl and held about ten cookies in it.

As Alan came inside, he heard the faint crunching of Oreos erode from the table. He came in and wasn't surprised to see his son like this. He knew that Quentin would seek out salvation at the Springwood library and through coffee and energy drinks. Oreos were always Quentin's favorite go-to snack so he didn't even have to question why his son was eating them. As long as he wasn't doing anything illegal, he didn't give a shit about what his son did to pass the time and stay up. Besides, there wasn't much in Springwood anyway.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" Alan asked as he closed the door behind him. Of course, his son nodded before he stuck a piece of paper in his book to mark where he was. As his dad peeled his shoes off by the door, Quentin quietly ate another Oreo. Once his dad fumbled to the chair, he dropped his bag on the table before he rummaged through the numerous papers inside his brief case.

"I think I found somewhere for us," Alan said as he grabbed a stack of papers.

"Somewhere?" Quentin asked a little confused. He expected the word 'something', not 'somewhere'. This made him nervous to say the least.

"Yeah," his dad started before he slid a few sheets of paper towards his son, "here."

When Quentin first started to look at these sheets, he tried to skim the lines of information. He tried not to look at the photos that he was given either, at least not until the end.

"Hawkins?" Quentin finally asked before he looked over at his dad.

"Yeah. It's a small town in Indiana. The middle school needs a new principle so I won't be working at the high school. However, I won't be far. If you ever needed me or anything, I would be within walking distance," he added. Quentin saw the distance from the middle school and the high school, they were yards away from each other.

"Did you already accept the job?" Quentin asked as he continued to look through everything. Well, as much as his dad gave him.

"I need an answer by tonight," he admitted.

"You think we should move?" Quentin finally asked.

"Well, yeah. We can get away from Springwood. We can start from scratch. No more nightmares, no more-"

"How do you know that the nightmares will stop?" Quentin asked, merely skeptical of this claim.

"Because there is a laboratory there-"

"A lab? You want me to go there like I'm some kind of lab rat?"

"Quentin, no. They had a case where some kid was presumed dead. He goes there and gets treated like a normal kid-"

"So neither of us are normal?"

"Quentin, for the love of God, let me finish!" Alan finally snapped at him before he sighed shakily. "What I'm saying is that these guys are good. They can help you unlike the folks here. I just want you to get some help and get some goddamn sleep."

After a few seconds of awkward silence, which felt like it was ten minutes instead of a few seconds, Alan spoke up once more after he cleared his throat.

"So what do you think?"

"I think this is stupid, especially since I'm almost halfway through my senior year. You're gonna make me start over in Indiana," Quentin admitted.

"I know, but I do think it'll do us both some good. Besides, if we do move, we can live in a better house. We won't have to live in a neighborhood in the suburbs anymore. We can live in the middle of nowhere. Hell, maybe they'll have a library with new books for you to read," Alan admitted as he tried to lighten the mood and tension between them both. With a sigh in defeat, Quentin gave a subtle nod before he grabbed the beverage before him. Quite frankly, he was too tired to argue with him. New books wouldn't be bad, but he still wasn't too happy about the situation.

After a bit, Quentin was munching on his last Oreo when he heard his dad in the other room. It was rather quiet, but he was still audible.

"Yeah, it's Alan Smith- Yeah, I'm calling because of the principle offer I was given and I- Mhmm, that's great- October 3rd? Alright, we'll be there."

Great. Shitville, Indiana, here we come. Supposedly on October 3rd, or even before that.


	3. Time May Change Me (But I Can't Trace Time).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's the day where the Smith's are moving out. Despite what happened in Springwood, Quentin still has an emotional connection to it. Although this place is full of heartaches and nightmares, this was the place where he fell head over heels for Nancy. Quentin isn't really against change, but the timing is shitty.  
> Alan wants to move to drive Quentin away from his nightmares, but he's making his son suffer through a teens worst nightmare, which is starting over in the middle of high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know those boring chapters you need to have in order to keep the story going? That's what this chapter is to say the least. This piece is so slow that I was dreading on writing it. Either way, it's done now so we can have better chapters for here on out.  
> * The Oreos and Redbull idea was brought to my attention by a friend (whose birthday was yesterday). I was hoping to make a more eventful chapter for it, but that wasn't the case. Also it's a day later than I originally planned, so sorry about that.  
> "I love that bitch!"- Jake

Oreos. That's what Quentin was quietly munching on as he sat in the passengers seat of the car. His eyes trailed away from his hands and shifted towards the driveway. The moving truck was packed full of boxes and furniture. Well, maybe the word "full" is a bit of a stretch. Either way, their stuff was in the back of the van. Quentin watched as his dad closed the back door of the vehicle before he talked to the people who helped them. Luckily for Alan, his former coworkers were willing to help them move to Indiana. They'd drive the truck, help them bring everything inside, stay the night, then leave the next morning.

As Quentin crunched down on another cookie, his dad got into the car and sank into the cloth-covered seat. He looked over at his son before he stuck his keys into the ignition.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"I guess.." Quentin mumbled as he shook softly. To him, he wasn't too fond of this. Best case scenario, Alan would have waited until he graduated. Quentin would have finished his senior year here, he'd apply to college, and he would have already moved out. However, this wasn't the case. Quentin was born and raised in Springwood, and now he was going to be driven away from everything he knew, and all because his dad suggested that they move elsewhere. This was bullshit.

Once they were on the road, Alan turned the radio on and Quentin slumped down into his seat as he continued to eat his cookies. He had a cold can of Redbull in the cupholder nearby and the metal glistened as the sun hit it. As they drove off and made their way out of Springwood, he watched everything that he'd miss. Quentin would miss the library, the coffee shops, the diner that Nancy worked at, his high school, and the pharmacy that he used to get Zoneral from. He was going to miss it all.

Despite Alan telling him about Hawkins, he knew nothing about it. Did they have a decent library? Did they have good diners and coffee spots? Was the high school decent? Did it have a swim team like Springwood did? Was it warmer in Hawkins? Did they have all four seasons like Springwood did? There were so many questions, but little to no answers for him. He didn't even know what to expect when they'd get there.

As soon as they drove past the sign that said "Welcome to Indiana", Quentin took a deep breath through the nose before he cracked the can of Redbull open and brought it to his lips. He sipped it as his eyes fixated on the trees that they drove past. Well, at least it was still autumn here.


	4. Run Away (But We're Running in Circles)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Quentin's first day in Hawkins and he's not amused, especially since it's a mere replica of small-town Springwood. Nonetheless, his dad is insistent that this change is for the better, especially for Quentin's sake. Upon the first day, he meets his new neighbor, who is a spastic but mellow goth named Jeremy. He will be attending his first day of school on Monday and he isn't too thrilled, but what else can he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy over the past month or two, but I'm finally here to post a new chapter! Again, if you need me for anything or you have questions about my piece(s), hit me up on butterscotchharrington (Insta). Even if you just want to harass me about writing too slowly, hit me up and remind me to get my ass on here. Finally, without wasting another minute, let me see if I can effectively write and produce that chapter that some of y'all have been craving for (and thanks to those who comment on my work, I really appreciate it and love that some of y'all actually read my stuff, despite them being so short and vague).  
> When it comes to the time frame of this story, Quentin Smith was based in 2009 or 2010. However, Steve was based in the 1980s. Thus, we're gonna let this story take place in 2009 or 2010, since I'm more familiar with this time frame (since I lived through it). Also, I'm introducing one of my own characters in this story. His name is Jeremy, and I already know that some of you are very familiar with him from some of my previous works and/or Insta. If you want to learn more about him, check out bendygothic on Insta!

Once the car stopped with a rock, Quentin tiredly opened his eyes and squinted at the windshield. He fixated his gaze towards the building that stood before him and he sighed shakily. It looked like it did in the pictures, but the lawn was bare since the previous owners moved out months beforehand. The grass was low, but mainly because it had been dead due to drought and the lack of rain fall. Once Quentin tiredly stepped out of the vehicle, his dad looked over at him to meet the sleepy-brunette's eyes.

  
"Well?" the older male asked as the brunette pawed at his eyes with his fingertips.

  
"It looks like it did in the pictures.." Quentin admitted softly.

  
"Want to look inside before the guys come with the truck?"

  
Of course, to this question, Quentin merely nodded before he grabbed his backpack and his pillow from the passenger's side. His dad went to the door with the key in hand before the brunette followed. Once that creaky oak colored door swung open, the smell of wood filled their nostrils. The house didn't smell new per se, but it reeked of dust and pine. Was this a bad smell? No, but it wasn't expected. As soon as Quentin stepped in, he was greeted at the foyer with that damned scent. In that foyer, there was the living room, the kitchen, and the hallway that led to the other rooms. The walls were caked in grey and beige paints, and the floors were either matched up with dark colored slabs or fluffy grey carpet. There was a set of steps in the foyer too, but they led up to the master bedroom and bathroom. Other than that, everything else was downstairs. There was a bathroom by the kitchen and a bedroom across the hallway, however, there was another door at the very end of the hallway. That door led down to the basement, where there was another bedroom. Lucky for them, the basement was finished and as was the bedroom inside it. In the kitchen, there was a door that led to the empty and dead backyard. There was a slab of concrete, which was considered to be the back patio, and there was a tool shed out there as well. Other than that, there were trees as far as they eyes can see.

  
"What do you think?" Alan finally asked his son.

  
"Homey.." Quentin mumbled as he stepped in and walked to the back window to observe all the dead grass, "very homey.." he repeated, almost sarcastically this time. With that, his dad sighed in defeat then walked over to the sleepy brunette.

  
"Listen, I know that it'll take a while to grow fond of this place, but I promise that its fine. here, I'll even let you pick whatever room you want down here. There is one down the hallway and one in the basement, take your pick," his dad said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Quentin went to retort, but when he saw his das face, he merely sighed in defeat then trudged off to see his options.

  
Well, Quentin realized that the one on the main floor was between the bathroom and the kitchen so he picked that almost immediately, and only because of it's correlation with the rest of the house. Quentin noted the window that led to the front yard, the small walk-in closet, the hard-wood floor, and the slate-colored walls. He dropped his bag on the floor and tossed his pillow alongside it. This seemed fine, at least it did this far.

  
\-- -- --

  
After a few hours of unpacking, Quentin was trying to put his clothes in the closet, at least the t-shirts and hoodies. He kept plucking hangers from a box and sticking them through the arm holes of his shirts. Afterwards, he would stick them in the closet and let them hang on the metal rod. Of course, while Quentin worked, he had some music on while he worked. He had the radio on and it played Down by Jay Sean. He wasn't one for today's music, but this one was fine. While Quentin bopped his head to the beat, he continued to unbox clothes and hang them up. After a bit, he heard knocking at the door and he stopped what he was doing.

  
"Yeah?" Quentin asked.

  
"Come out here," his dad said. "I'm gonna order takeout for us. One of our neighbors came to welcome us," he added.

  
Great, a new person that Quentin would have to avoid. Didn't Alan say that they'd live out in the middle of nowhere to isolate themselves? What was this bullshit?  
With a sigh in defeat, Quentin stepped out of his bedroom and towards the door to meet their neighbor. Turned out, he was only the neighbor's son. When Quentin stepped out, he saw a tall, lanky male at the door. He had jet-black hair and what looked like eyeliner. In this case, it was guyliner. He staggered roughly over six foot, he had short but choppy black hair, he was really pale, he had chocolate colored eyes, and he had his nails painted. When Quentin got closer, he noticed the numerous piercings on his body, such as both ears and his septum, and he had some tattoos that were visible. One that seemed noticeable was the rose tattoo that was practically plastered on the back of his hand.

  
"Hi, I'm Jeremy," the other said with a tender smile. He put his hand out to shake the others, which seemed odd to Quentin. Man, he didn't expect this kind of reaction from him.  
"Quentin," he said before he shook the other's hand.

  
"Nice to meet you," Jeremy said with a smile. "I go to Hawkins High School and I assume that you'll be going there too, right?" he asked.  
"I uh- yeah, on Monday," Quentin admitted.

  
"Cool. If you want, I can come pick you up and take you there. We don't have a busing system here in Hawkins," Jeremy admitted.

  
"Sure, that's fine," Quentin admitted. It was hard to believe that Jeremy was still in high school. If he was, he had to be a senior like he was. There was no other excuse.

  
"So where did you and your folks come from?" Jeremy asked.

  
"Springwood, Ohio," Quentin said.

  
"Oh, cool. What made you come here to Hawkins?"

  
"My dad got a job here," Quentin admitted.

  
"Oh, sweet, what does he do?"

  
"He's gonna be the new principal at the middle school,"

  
"Cool, it's across the parking lot from the high school," Jeremy admitted.

  
Did this guy have any other words in his vocabulary? He sure liked to use the words "sweet" and "oh, cool" a lot.

  
"Yeah , um, I got to get back to unpacking. I'll see you around Jeremy," Quentin said before he stepped away from the door and closed it. Jesus Christ. Nothing was wrong with Jeremy, but he was too friendly for Quentin's liking. Speaking of Monday, he had a lot to get done before then. He had to get his schedule, go see the school, get some supplies, and get all of his things unpacked before the weekend ended. At least he didn't have to tour around the school. As far as he was concerned, that Jeremy kid would voluntarily do this for him.


	5. I've Got Ninety-Nine Problems (But a Bitch Ain't One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's Quentin's first day at Hawkins High and it's a whole new world. With this, it's full of new faces and people that he didn't know about until now. Despite him being a new kid on the block, it looks like he's not the only one who transferred here.  
> When it comes to the new things that Quentin's encountering, he finds himself in new predicaments, between new classes, people, and even special interests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a FAT minute, hasn't it? Well, it's December 4th and my last final exam is on the 8th. Thus, I will be on break until January. Expect new chapters in the near future and maybe a new story. Yes, I will still work on this as well, but I will have two projects going at once. I will be off school until January 25th, which is my first day back. With that, expect updates tp be slow again once that time happens. However, for now, expect more from me and my account within the next month or two!

Before Quentin knew, Monday morning came around and he wasn't too thrilled to be going back to school. He was born and raised in Springwood so he was never "the new kid" in school. This was a brand new experience for him and to make matters worse, he only knew one person and there was no guarantee that he was going to be in any of his classes. Besides, he knew how high school worked, and he knew that he wouldn't fit into Jeremy's group. Well, he could, but he probably had other options of groups.  
Quentin pulled the end of his hoodie down over his stomach then gently tugged on it. He did this as he stared at the insomniac that made direct eye contact with him in the mirror. He ran his hand through his messy curls then pulled his heathered grey beanie over his head.

  
"Quentin c'mon," his dad yelled from the front door, "I'll be in the car."

  
With that, the door shut behind him and the brunette could hear the faint shuffling towards the car. Quentin pawed at his eyes with his fingertips once more before he stepped out and grabbed his bag. On the way out the door, he swung through the kitchen and picked up the coffee cup that he filled just ten minutes ago. He put the lid on the travel mug then headed out the door, and locking it behind him. Once he made it into the car, he slumped down into his seat as his dad crept onto the road with his vehicle. As they reached the red street light, the grey-haired male put the car to a halt before I looked over at his son.

  
"You know, you should save those for your lunch instead," he started as the brunette pushed another Oreo cookie between his lips, like how a vhs tape would go into the player. With this comment Quentin merely whined at the remark then covered his mouth with his wrist.

  
"They're too good to save until later," he admitted.

  
"Speaking of lunch later, you have money yo buy, right?"

  
Quentin nodded then went back to chowing down on his cookies. Although he seemed pretty numb and quiet this morning, he was panicking. In this case, he was stress eating his favorite cookies. As they pulled into the parking lot of the two schools, it finally set in. It felt more real now that they were between both the middle and high schools. Quentin was new to a world that many were already familiar with, and it was terrifying to say the least. Once they got there, Alan handed Quentin the keys and grabbed his bag.  
"Listen, the middle school starts at 7:15 and won't be out of session until 2:40," he admitted. "Your school starts at 8:05 and ends at 2:00. Now, I don't care if you stay in the car until then, but don't leave. After school, I want you to either go to the car or into my office, okay?"

  
"Yeah okay.." Quentin mumbled, taking a mental note as he held the keys.

  
"Also, today's your first appointment at the laboratory so try not to be any later than 2:40, okay?"

  
With a nod and the slam of a car door, his dad was heading towards the middle school. In the meantime, Quentin got to sit there and sulk in his anxiety. First he had school, then he had to go to the laboratory like some kind of pet going to the vet? Why wouldn't he be panicked, or at least skeptical of his current situation?  
As the cars started to fill the parking lot, he sighed shakily and could have just sank into the chair. Hell, if he could, he would have started the car and drove home, but his dad would have found out from either himself or his teachers. As the cars filled, the students started to pour out and towards the building. Quentin would keep checking his phone and time was just slowly going by. He would whine when he noticed that only a minute or two had passed, mainly since it felt like each minute was a good ten minutes of anxiety and nerves.

  
After a while, he eventually got out of the car and slung his bag over his shoulder. Quentin could feel his new peers looking at him, trying to piece together who he was and if they'd ever seen him before. Of course, he could feel these looks without looking. They felt like daggers poking and piercing through his skin. However, those stares seemed to fade as their attention wandered elsewhere, specifically at a cobalt blue colored camaro. Hell, even Quentin looked. That car had to be old, like real old, so who was driving it? Not a student, right? Maybe an older teacher? To his surprise, a red-headed girl got out of the passengers side and cruised towards the middle school on a skateboard. After anticipatingly waiting, he saw a male step out, but it was a student. Quentin watched as he grabbed his bag then started to practically strut towards the school. Quentin couldn't help but watch as his jeans practically hugged the others ass in his jeans. Hell, he was practically in a trance from how illuminating it was.

  
However, he practically got pulled out of his fantasy by a familiar face.

  
"Look slike you're not the only new kid here," he admitted, it was Jeremy, again.

  
"I guess not," Quentin admitted. This was great! That meant that nobody would notice or even pay attention to him. Their eyes would be glued on that other kid. Besides, he was just the kid whose dad was the principal of t he middle school. He had nothing on him, especially when it came to the others ass.

  
"Do you need help to your first class or anything? Jeremy asked.

  
"No, but thank you. I think I can manage," he admitted. With that, Jeremy nodded then went inside the double doors. Quentin looked at the building then sighed shakily as he took his last breath of fresh air. As far as he was concerned, once he went in, there was no turning back. Quentin collected himself then after a bit, he grabbed the strap of his bag nervously and walked in.

  
Of course, once he did, he was on the hunt for his locker. Quentin grabbed his schedule from his pocket then read the four digit code, E109. He looked up at the hallway and noticed that he was currently in hallway A. He sighed then started to venture off to find his locker. Each hallway was another letter and apparently they went from A to F. Once he found his locker bay, he hunted for the number. Of course, this didn't take too long and he planted his bag in front of the door once he found it. Quentin looked back at his schedule and looked at the combination, which was 10-22-19. He put his thumb, pointer, and middle finger on the dial then started to turn away.

  
10-22-19. Jiggle jiggle, wrong.  
10-22-19. Jiggle jiggle, wrong.  
10-22-19. Jiggle jiggle, WRONG.

  
After that last attempt, he whined then just stood there. What was the magic word to get this thing to open? This was damn near impossible. As Quentin thought to himself, he merely jumped when he heard another presence behind him. He was tall, lean, and pretty. He had his books in his arm and he had a sandwich in his hand. From what he could tell, it looked like a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on a sesame bagel. It looked good.  
"Do you need help?"

  
"Yeah," Quentin admitted lowly, clearly embarrassed. Upon turning around to see what kind soul offered to help, he locked eyes with somebody's Adam's apple. After he tilted his head up, he saw the brunette that stood before him. He pushed his hair back with his hand as he gnawed on the sandwich.

  
"What's the combination?" he asked as he shifted his books into his other arm and fixated his hand on the dial.

  
"Um, 10-22-19," Quentin said. He watched the other male practically squat down a bit as he twisted the dial. Quentin watched the other quietly. He didn't know that he was taring until the other male faced him again and snapped him out of his daydreaming.

  
"Here," he said as he stepped back, revealing the opened locker.

  
"How the fuck?.." Quentin mumbled as he looked at it. "I mean, thank you," he corrected softly.

  
"No problem, these lockers are a bit tricky if you've never-" the male started then stopped once it all clicked. "wait, you're new, right?" he asked.

  
"Is it that obvious?" Quentin asked, almost scared that being new showed.

  
"No no, but I will say that you do kind of stand out since you can't even open your locker."

  
"I mean, fair enough," Quentin said. "Again, thank you," he repeated.

  
"You're welcome. Next time, you do two complete right circles, then one left, then immediately do your last digit afterwards," the taller male said, explaining how to open it to the other male.

"I'll keep that in mind, I'm Quentin by the way," he said. This time, the insomniac was refusing to look back at the male because he could feel his face getting blood red.

  
"Steve," the other male said. "Steve Harrington," he verified.

  
"Well, thank you again, Steve," he said.

  
"And you're welcome again, Quentin," Steve said, which forced the other to practically tense up when he said his name.

  
"Hey, before you go, do you know where 116 is? Clicks American history class? I was supposed to take something like it, but I never did and I think it's sophomore history or something," Quentin asked.

  
"Yeah, I'm actually on my way over there. I'll wait for you and I'll show you where it is," Steve said before he took a bite from his sandwich. With that bite, Quentin practically melted into his own feet as he grabbed his books. He put his backpack in his locker then closed it as he held his things. When he turned around, he noticed that the other male had doe-like eyes. They were like big, Hershey kisses in his eyes and his face was speckled in, something. They weren't smell enough to be freckles, but they weren't as big and scary-looking as moles were. Hell, he'd go on to call them his beauty marks. Speaking of these marks, they made the male look like a white-strawberry from how pale his skin was, especially in relevance to his dark hair.

  
"You ready?" Steve asked after he cleared his throat.

  
Quentin's knees practically buckled the male's voice and in response, he merely nodded then allowed the other male to lead the way. He didn't remember going there, but once Ms. Click assigned him in a spot that was a row behind Steve and diagonal from him, he sipped his beverage once more and stayed quiet. He remembered that Steve was a senior too, but why was he taking this class if he was? Did he not take it until now, too? Did he fail it and have to retake it? Either way, he was glad that he wasn't the only senior in this class.

  
Once class started, he noticed that a female slumped in her seat behind Steve, but was beside Quentin. She seemed to be eyeing Steve as well and every once a while, Quentin would steer his eyes away whenever she would catch him staring. This was weird, because Steve was clearly a male but he was so fucking pretty. It was practically killing Quentin. He didn't like Steve. No, he didn't, he just met him. How could he like him? The answer was simple, he didn't, he just appreciated the hospitality that he showed him. That was it.


End file.
